Italian Kisses
by Teruragi
Summary: Germany X Italy Fluff.


**A/N: Yet another 'Ragi fic here. I'd just like to say beforehand that I knew I had write this as soon as I watched the first season on Hetalia for the nine millionth time. I am an insane Hetalia fangirl who is compared to the great and adorable Italy! Therefore, it is only natural that my favorite Hetalia couple is Gerita (though Liechtenstein and Switzerland is a close second)! Anyways! I support the rumor that Germany is actually Holy Rome. (spoiler?)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia… just a lot of their merchandise.**

"Hey pretty ladies! Woohoo~ over here! Gimme a kiss!" The Italian pursues the two giggling ladies for a short stretch before slinking back to his good friend. "Doitsu… don't they want my kisses?"

Said friend looks up from his paper. It's open to the page displaying current world relations. For the most part, everything is calm and in order. It's not perfect but it's survivable. He sets down the paper on the bistro table he's seated at. Germany is visiting his friend Italy at his home. Most of the time, Italy goes over to Germany's place but Germany felt like it would be nice to visit the other once in a while.

"Vell… maybe it is because you chase them so much, Italia. Perhaps if you vern't so obnoxious about it they'd give you the time of day."

Italy slumps in the seat across from Germany. "Nee… Doitsu that was mean."

Germany softens at the sight of the sad Italian. He did not intend to offend the other. In fact, he regrets it deeply. With a sigh, he gathers up the paper and gently grabs Italy by the forearm.

"Come on, Italia. Let's go do something to cheer you up."

All of a sudden, Italy brightens up. "Hey, hey, Doitsu! Can we go to the beach?"

"Vhy vould you vant to do that, Italia? It's too cold."

The shorter brunette latches tightly onto his friend. "Please?" Germany gives up. If it were anyone else, he would call them stupid and shoo them away but it is Italy. There has always been a strange fondness for him ever since meeting him in the middle of a forest with an empty box of tomatoes. It seems like such an insignificant moment, when the two of them met. Still, the Italian man grew on Germany. Often he would have to go and save Italy from an opposing country or from his own stupidity. He never gave any help in return. In all truthfulness, Italy is a nuisance, a thorn in his side. Still, he brings such simple joy to any and all around him. He may be dense at times but there is a strong desire to see those around him happy.

The more Germany thinks about the brunette, the more he realizes that he cares for the naïve country known as Italy. In some aspects, he is even wiser than Germany. Italy has been through a lot in his history, all starting with his Grandpa Rome. He is still a great country no matter how simple he may seem.

As soon as they near the water's edge, Italy rushes forward and splashes in the knee deep water like a child on his first visit to the beach. To Germany, it is Italy's simple mind and views that makes him so interesting. It leads to funny encounters and interesting conversations. Italy seems to be a light all his own. His purity strikes deep down with Germany. There is nothing he wants to do more than protect his dear little Italy, not that he would admit that to anyone. For a while, Germany is content to keep an eye on Italy as he's in the water. Before long, Italy is in nothing but his yellow swim trunks.

"You are such a child sometimes, Italia," Germany mutters to himself. Suddenly, Italy is standing in front of him, tugging at Germany's shirt.

"Nee… Come join me in the water, Doitsu! It's lonely."

"Fine," he sighs, standing up. He strips down to his boxers and follows the Italian into the freezing water. He watches as Italy splashes away from him and makes his way back. Color begins to rise to Germany's cheeks as the shadow of an old memory makes its way to the surface. Very faintly, he can remember someone swimming to him in such a similar manner… and similar appearance. Actually, the more he thinks about it, the more it confuses him. Who was the person in his shadowed memory that he shared such an intense love for?

Before he has time to ponder any longer, Italy draws close, arms wrapped around his chest. "Nee~ Doitsu I changed my mind. It's too cold."

"Then let's get out Italia."

Italy stays close to Germany as he leads them out of the water. He even goes as far as opening his eyes to cast glances at the German. As they draw towards the shore, Italy can't help the sadness washing over him. He really likes Germany and wanted to spend a fun day together with him but the entire time, Germany seems to have been distracted by something. Of course, Italy tried being Italy to get Germany's attention but that didn't seem to work. With a sigh, Italy realizes that the only way he will be able to capture his secret love's attention is to be serious for once in his life. The pressure is on.

When they get to their pile of clothes, Germany puts his jacket over Italy's shoulders. Looking away, he says, "You need it more than I do."

"Grazie… Say Doitsu… can I talk to you?"

Surprised, Germany looks back at his smaller friend. "Of course you can. You don't need to ask permission. Vhat's the matter?"

Italy buries his toes in the sand, as if suddenly amazed by the tiny golden specks. "I was kind of curious… who was your first kiss?"

"Vhy vould you ask such a thing? But…" Germany remembers a little bit about his childhood once again, seeing the same person as before. She's in a green dress with an apron. The conversation between the two of them is lost in time but the image of the two of them kissing remains. Germany tries to recall the name of his first love but it eludes him. "I can't really remember. All I know is that I really loved her."

The two of them sit down on a nearby bench. Tears begin to well up in Italy's eyes as he tries to imagine _his_ Germany falling in love with someone else… a girl. _Why would Doitsu like me back? I'm sure he only likes girls. He would never fall for a guy like me._ One droplet personifying his sorrow trickles out of his eye, only to be wiped up by Germany.

"Italia… something's vrong. Tell me."

Without warning, Italy buries his face into Germany's chest. The tears fall freely, only proving that there is a problem. Slightly unsure, Germany wraps his arms around the Italian, rubbing his back comfortingly. For a couple minutes, Germany and Italy remain unmoved until the air cools and the sky turns gold. It's only when Italy starts shaking that Germany tries to move him.

"No!" Italy shouts. He pauses then continues in a whisper, "I want to stay like this."

Very concerned now, Germany holds Italy closer. "Vhat am I going to do vith you, Italia?"

After several more minutes of quiet sobs, Italy finally looks up at Germany. "I really like you Doitsu."

"I really like you too," Germany replies without hesitation. In response, Italy shakes his head vigorously. His sadness begins to thicken.

"No… Doitsu… I _really _like you. Ti amo…" There is silence. Not even the wind dares to make a noise as Italy awaits his death sentence. How will he reply? Did he just ruin their friendship? Germany is his only friend… that would mean being alone once again, unprotected. His brother Romano will be able to pick on him again. Everyone will take advantage of him once again. All of the tortures will begin once again, leaving him a wreck. All of this because Italy can't keep his emotions to himself.

The red color attacks Germany's cheeks as he stares at the emotional Italian. Hardly has he ever seen so serious, so down to Earth. This man is foolish, idiotic, and a nuisance. Still, he is also Germany's best friend. He can never be replaced. The mere thought of living without the bundle of energy is inconceivable. He is… so much more than a friend.

Tenderly, Germany cups Italy's face with his hand and pulls him in for a chaste kiss. It's nothing more than a touch of the lips but it sends both of their hearts into flurries. They pull away after a minute. In a quiet voice Germany responds, "Ich liebe dich." Once again, the two lock lips, relishing the contact they have both wanted. With that simple contact, emotions flow between the two of them. All of the hidden love flows from one to the other.

Germany pulls back, looking into the tear filled eyes of Italy. They are so familiar. The russet hair, small features… so feminine. Gingerly, he wipes another tear off of Italy's cheek. "Italia… You didn't tell me who your first kiss was."

Red coloring dyes the smaller ones face. "Si… His name was Holy Roman Empire."

"Holy Rome…" In a flash, memories flood into Germany's mind. Austria… Hungary… Even Switzerland… they all played a large part in his life when he was younger… when he was known as Holy Rome. He also remembered Italy. Little Italy, who Hungary dressed in girls clothes because she thought it would be cute. Germany blushes. It certainly was cute. His first love, his only love, has been Italy all along. He can recall going off to war, leaving little Italy behind. Something happened during that fight.

Germany rubs his eyes, as if trying to clear all of the memories rushing in. From the very beginning, he has loved Italy. He wraps his arms around the Italian, cherishing the moment as if his life depends on it. "Italia, it has always been you."


End file.
